Common Ground
by kisafa
Summary: When Ichigo is left scarred and alone, how can he pull himself from the depths of his mental hell and regain the courage to allow anyone in? Rated M for future chapters (rape, self harm, suicide). IchigoXUrahara YAOI
1. Chapter 1

Chills sped down Ichigo's spine as he lifted the hood of his jacket, revealing orange spikes that contrasted with white snow that covered everything. It was too damn cold outside, and the trek from his dorm room to his first class of the day was more unpleasant than prior ones; Winter was fast approaching, and the temperature continued to plummet day by day. Ichigo hated the cold...Especially when the fog of his breath teased him with its ability to objectify the freezing temperatures. There needn't be a reminder of the damn cold!

A friendly face caused Ichigo to forget his frozen limbs for a moment. The ridiculous green and white striped hat of his best friend always made Ichigo smile on the inside, but he repressed it, as per the usual. Ichigo's heart was colder than the snow, and he'd be damned if a silly striped hat would break his isolated walls of post-teenage angst. Kisuke waved with that goofy grin he always had before jogging over to the strawberry.

"Cold today, isn't it, Kurosaki-san?" Urahara asked, rubbing his hands together in a failed attempt to defrost his fingers. Ichigo just grunted and huddled deeper into his fluffy jacket. Kisuke didn't need an answer; Most of the time, his dear friend could read him like an opened book. And so, they walked towards the large campus of Karakura University in comfortable silence.

As they trailed, Ichigo thought about how in the hell a guy like Kisuke Urahara would even talk to an ass like himself. They had met one of the first days of the semester in the dorm commons, where Ichigo was glaring over his new roommate. Urahara stepped in before harsh words or fists could be thrown, and somehow, since then, the couple stuck together like glue. Even those in Kurosaki's dorm were surprised at how well the calmest person and the most rebellious redhead on campus took so well to each other so quickly.

Kisuke was a lot older than Ichigo. Like, a good ten years or more. And yet, the blonde wanted to continue his education, even though he had to start as a college freshman at age 31. Apparently, Kisuke was a fan of the sciences and technology; He had traveled those lost ten years throughout the world, on his wealthy father's dime, collecting samples of rare plants and odd bacteria to study. Urahara had even built a pretty impressive lab, which Ichigo had only seen once, and even then, for a short period of time. However, it was not as advanced as Kisuke would have liked, nor did he have the personal companions intelligent enough to work with. Therefore, his only option was to continue his education and become a bio-technologist in hopes of using their resources.

Warm air surround the two as they entered the north side of the building; Their class was in the south wing of the school, but walking around the huge building in the snow appealed to neither of them. Both gave a sigh of relief.

"That sure feels damn good." Ichigo commented, finally pulling his hands from the pockets they had been buried in. Urahara nodded in agreement,

"Winter just doesn't seem to understand that people are trying to keep their body heat, not lose it." He chuckled and adjusted his hat from where the wind had tipped it a bit. Around them, students of various class levels were busy bustling to their classes, seminars, and speeches. One student in particular caught Ichigo's eye: Kenpachi Zaraki, college sophomore. Ichigo and Zaraki had an unfortunate run-in when Ichigo bumped into the larger on accident. Zaraki apparently used that intrusion as a reason to knock some sense into Ichigo, because a few seconds later, and the two were in a full-out brawl in the middle of the courtyard. They were quickly pulled apart, with little damage done. Ichigo just had a good, dark shiner that took a few weeks to heal entirely.

Zaraki caught the strawberry's gaze and curled his lips into a feral smile before taking a finger and touching underneath his eye gently, as if to mock Ichigo for getting the black eye. Ichigo's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He couldn't afford to get kicked out of this school. It was hard enough to get in with his high school disciplinary record a few inches thick. The last thing he needed was the Dean to find out he was in a fight. If he did, Ichigo would be sent packing back to his father's house where he would work in the clinic the rest of his god-given life. That was something Ichigo could never in his wildest dreams do.

Urahara noticed the tension between the two testosterone-driven males and gently tugged on Ichigo's arm. He knew about the rivalry they had with each other; The shiner had happened just a few weeks after the strawberry and blonde had met. Ichigo seemed to respond to the small tug and returned his attention to Urahara.

_'Just let it go'_ Urahara said with his eyes, and Ichigo seemed to get the message. The younger just turned his head, still fuming, and brushed past Zaraki and his crew. Each member of Zaraki's circle of friends looked similar; They were all large with muscles and angular facial features. The only one who stood out was a cotton-candy colored girl who looked to be 12 at most, but was in fact the same age as Ichigo. When he had first learned her age, he flipped, claiming that there could be no way that was true. Unfortunately, it was. For someone so sweet and innocent-looking, she sure did hang out with a bunch of thugs.

Literature was the first class of the day. Students had already begun filling the seats of the small classroom, leaving only two empty ones, side by side, open in the front row. The room itself had a homey feel; Pictures of beautiful landscapes covered the walls, the bookshelf in the back of the classroom was stocked with a large number of great literary works as well as personal nick-knacks of the Professor's, and even the small teapot on the professor's desk that he often used to refill his teacup after giving a long speech felt normal and calm.

Ichigo and Urahara sat in the only remaining seats and began taking out their laptops and papers that were the previous class' homework assignment. A hush went through the room as Professor Ukitake entered.

"Good morning, class. I hope that the snow hasn't gotten you feeling too badly, because, as you know, mid-terms are just around the corner," Ukitake said with a genuine jovial smile. Today his hair was pulled back into a low pony-tail at the base of his neck, and he wore a black sweater-vest over a white collared shirt and black jeans. Even his glasses, which he occasionally wore, matched perfectly with the outfit. The man was always as put together as he was always happy. "I want all of you to know that I have the utmost confidence in you passing my class, and this mid-term. But before we begin discussing the novel your mid-term will be over, please pass your homework up."

Professor Ukitake was the only teacher who gave homework on a regular basis. Most college classes made you essentially do independent study and just take notes over whatever the professor said that day. However, Ukitake believed in practice. None of his assignments were particularly hard, but they did involve quite a lot of pondering. The previous assignment was to annotate and write a short commentary on a passage from _I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, _and then discuss how the style of Maya Angelou was reflected in that particular snippet. Ichigo found this quite difficult, but that was because he hadn't yet finished the book, even though it had been a week or so since they were required to read it in full. Urahara had helped BS some information for Ichigo, knowing that Ichigo was struggling in literature. He certainly wasn't _bad_ at it...Ichigo just wasn't quite good, either. However, with Urahara essentially doing this assignment for the red head, he made a deal that Ichigo would have to finish the book by night's end, or some terrible consequence would befall the young man. Ichigo didn't want to be the one to find out what 'terrible consequences' Urahara had in his genius mind...

"Ah, it seems like this pile is a little light today." Ukitake replied to the stack of papers he now held in his hand, "Perhaps I should give you a pop quiz on the passage." Groans echoed throughout the room. The professor just chuckled and stuck the papers in his drawer, "Actually, it's fine. A zero should suffice for those who didn't bother to turn even a shred of paper in. I'm not going to double punish you. Just take this as a lesson for the next time I give something out." Again, groans were heard, but the mouths they came from knew it was their own fault for being lazy and not even attempting to put any effort into the assignment. Well, Ichigo hadn't either, but he _had_ put in the effort to get someone else to do it _for_ him, which was pretty much the same, right?

Ukitake continued with his lesson, talking about tone and symbolism and yada yada yada...

Ichigo zoned out, and before he knew it, class had been dismissed.


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome back to Common Ground! This was sort of a trial or error type of story, but so far, I've had some good reviews. Hopefully this story can continue, but only if you guys want it to. It's been crazy around here because I just moved out and all of my finals were the past two weeks (Lots of studying...yay), plus we just did our Christmas production and I had to be there every day until like 8pm (Being stage manager is so much fun sometimes *sarcasm*) But I had a little time to whip something up for you guys! Enjoy!

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Urahara closed his book with a large, purposeful snap near his sleeping friend, jolting Ichigo from his drowsiness. He chuckled at the dazed-looking orange haired boy as reality washed itself over him.

"How long was I out?" Ichigo asked while rubbing his face, watching fellow students pick up their belongings and exit the classroom. Urahara shrugged, a grin still plastered on his face,

"Just about the whole class. Professor Ukitake didn't seem to notice, though. Or if he did, he didn't do anything to stop you." Kisuke stood, gathering his laptop bag and the binder for his next class. "I guess I'm going to go. Professor Kuchiki would be highly upset of I were late to his class. That man doesn't seem to have one compassionate bone in his body. It's ironic that he teaches psychology, and yet shows no emotion. I'll catch you at lunch, okay? In your dorm room, like usual?" Ichigo nodded and gathered his own belongings. The drowsiness was now fading a bit, but not enough to where he didn't want to fall asleep again,

"Yeah, that's fine. I'm going to go take another nap since my next class doesn't start until two." He glanced at his wristwatch, "That means I've got an hour or so to sleep before you get there."

Urahara tipped the ugly striped hat in Ichigo's direction, which the strawberry ignored, and left the room with that goofy grin on his face. Sometimes, Ichigo wondered if that man was a flaming gay or not by the way he responded to things.

"You seemed to have slept well." Professor Ukitake commented, making Ichigo jump; He had forgotten where he was...

"Oh...Um, sorry, Professor. I just...didn't sleep well last night," Ichigo said, trying to cover himself. His hand began scratching the back of his neck nervously as he created a believable scenario, "Yeah, my roommate was blaring some wickedly loud music and it was hard to fall asleep." Professor Ukitake just smiled,

"Well, I hope he acts better tonight and that you get some rest. Perhaps you won't fall asleep again tomorrow." Ichigo smiled and nodded, before slinging his laptop case over his body,

"I gotcha, sir!" Ukitake grinned happily and motioned for Ichigo to run along, in which he obliged the usually sickly man. Professor Ukitake was a wonderful teacher; Ichigo loved to listen to him. It was a shame he had fallen asleep this class...

His excuse wasn't far from the truth, either. Renji was blaring some sort of heavy metal scremo-shit while Ichigo was trying to sleep, but unlike what he had told Ukitake, he hadn't particularly minded. It was sort of a night ritual for Renji to relieve his stress, and if it meant the redhead staying off Ichigo's case, then a little loud music wouldn't hurt. This had been a huge argument when Renji and Ichigo first began being roommates; Ichigo was too stubborn, and Renji was too hard-headed, and the two of them clashed terribly. The strawberry hadn't wanted Renji's damn music, but after seeing the calming effects it had on the tattooed young man, Ichigo finally gave in, which was a first.

The hallways were crowded with all the students draining from their classrooms; Some were heading back to the dorms, some were going to another class, and others just stood around, looking dazed without a care in the world that people were trying to get by. Those type of people irritated Ichigo to no end; lolly-gagging around when there was clearly a reason to move. This was one of the many instances that his high school years and college seemed similar. It proved people never grew out of being dumb asses.

Finally, Ichigo stopped in front of the doors that led into the freezing tundra of death...or in short term, the snow. With a sigh, he pushed the door open with much more force than necessary and stomped into the cold flurries. He was paying so much attention to the cold that he didn't even notice the large figure following him out of the building not too long after himself, or that the figure was staying a good bit away yet seemed to be heading in the same direction.

Keys rustled as Ichigo scanned the bar-code that was required to get into the dorm's building. The scanner beeped and the light glowed green, allowing access to the warm establishment. He stuffed the keys back into his pocket and raced down the hall. He couldn't wait to get inside his nice warm bed...

It wasn't until Ichigo had reached his room, room 104, that he felt like someone was watching him. A quick glance at the surroundings proved he was being delirious as he pulled the handle and entering the shared room.

Just as the door closed, or was _supposed_ to close, a hand kept it from doing so. The large figure entered the room.

"What the hell-", Ichigo's eyes widened: Kenpachi Zaraki was standing in the middle of the young man's room.

"W-what the hell?!" Ichigo shouted again, trying to piece together why this asshole was standing there, "Get out of my fucking room!" Zaraki just smirked and locked the door behind him, then moved toward Ichigo in long, determined strides. "Get out, or I'll fucking kill you, you big oaf!" Zaraki's smirk just widened, making him look even more insane than usual,

"I love when they fight. It makes it all the more amusing." Ichigo's eyes widened as he tried to rout different exit scenarios. There was the window, but he'd have to break out and land two stories down. There was the door, and he'd have to unlock it before being able to open it, which would allow Zaraki all the time he needed for whatever he was here for. What was he here for? Realization hit as Zaraki grasped Ichigo's wrists and pushed him down onto the bed; Did this man intend to rape him?!

"Let go of me!" Ichigo screeched, pulling at the iron grip. He twisted his body at odd angles, trying to land a hit or knee to the stomach on Zaraki, but nothing worked. A sneer formed on Zaraki's face,

"Ah, so you want to play? I can play, pussy cat." Strong arms pulled the struggling boy off the bed and into the wall. Head popped against wall while dots swam in his vision, but only stayed long enough to prove he had actually hurt. Rage filled the slim boy's body as he flung himself at Zaraki. One abnormally large hand and pushed him against the wall harder. The free hand trailed down the trapped boy's body, causing panic to rise as the fingers brushed against a zipper. Slowly, as if to taunt Ichigo about how he couldn't fight back, the zipper ran down. His top button was undone. One pair of jeans slid to the ground, then two, and both were followed by boxers.

Ichigo bit the inside of his cheeks as he tried to escape, but each time Zaraki would push him harder against the wall. A bruise was forming across his chest and arms; wherever Zaraki held each time Ichigo fought was sore. Ichigo's body soon fell weak. All the adrinaline that was pushing the boy had now drained and left nothing but the tired, scared male. Ichigo screamed. Zaraki hit him.

"Shuttup, you pissant. I'm going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget."


End file.
